


Lovers Leap

by SpuffyCarrie



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Language, F/M, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 20:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpuffyCarrie/pseuds/SpuffyCarrie
Summary: Complete! A new take on Lovers Walk. Set in S3, Spike returns to town and causes havoc when he arrives at Revello Drive. Buffy's horny, so horny its making her angry and frustrated. Angel's being distant since he's opened up that whole can of longing, before he became Angelus and had to be sent to a hell dimension by Buffy. Now she's back from LA and she's found a half-naked vampire comatose on her porch. What will she do with him? or more importantly, what wont she?Written for the Elysian Fields ‘ 12 Years 12 Seasons' Challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Elysian Fields ‘ 12 Years 12 Seasons' Challenge.
> 
> My prompt was:
> 
> 'A normal person would probably be shocked at finding an unconscious and mostly naked vampire on their front porch an hour before sunrise. Especially this particular vampire. But then normal was not a label often associated with Buffy, thanks to the whole Slayer gig. A quick scan didn’t hint at the cause of said unconsciousness, and nothing short of getting a closer look would help with that. The question was, should she?'
> 
> My amazing banner is by Axell and my story is beta'd by the fabulous Badwolfjedi.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Oh, hello there, gentle readers. You caught me catching up on an old favourite, a binge watch of Buffy the Vampire Slayer circa nineteen ninety eight, while I relax in my easy chair beside my faux fire, stuffing popcorn in my mouth and envision Spike naked. But I digress...

It is truly wonderful to get lost in a story and, as I read this story myself, I find myself immerced in the world they call Sunnydale, home of our beautiful, strong heroine, Buffy Summers, and also to the undisputed (on EF anyway) best vampire eye candy ever created, Spike/ William the Bloody. Described by the haters as a pulseless, impure, follicly-fried vampire **,** but by those who love him as good looking and athletic, the strongest warrior we have, all while bearing the hottest peroxide hair, sexiest coat and bluest of eyes we've ever seen.

Picture this, if you will.

Its midnight in the outskirts of California, and a classic Dodge Desoto 1958 Fireflight, veers off a residential road and crashes through the bushes outside the house on 1640 Revello Drive. This house is the residence of one, Joyce Summers and her daughter, Buffy.

Skidding across the grass, the car slows to a stop, one back wheel is spinning at an angle, where it hit the neighbour’s lawn jockey, smoke billows from the engine. The lawn is ruined by imbedded, blackened skid marks and one lone vampire, Spike, or some may call him, William the Bloody, is lying on his back upon the grass, one leg inside the car, his other boot resting against a snapped wing mirror.  

"Why did you do it to me, you crazy cow?” He’s sobbing, “What does he have that I don't?" He takes a swig from a half empty bottle of Jack and begins to giggle manically, "Fuck, yeah, antlers like ruddy Rudolf! I’ll give ‘im a fuckin’ red nose!" His emotions change and he's guffawing, "Wonder if he had a little bitty tail?" He holds his thumb and forefinger an inch apart and tries to focus on them, his eyes almost crossing as he seems to ponder that for a moment. "Girlfriend stealing ponce, I'll chop his bloody antlers off and stick 'em up his..." He takes another swig of whiskey and begins to blubber again. This appears to be not of the good.

Drunken vampires are rarely renowned for having the best ideas, but our vampire, Spike, felt like he’d had an epiphany when an idea rose from the depths of his drink addled brain. "Thassit!" He staggers to his feet, "need a fresh start." He begins stripping off his clothes, mumbling something about Dru's betrayal. "Gonna get my own back on the cheatin' bint. Gonna shhag the Shlayer, give it to 'er good an' proper!" He trips over his feet and lands right beside a garden gnome hidden in the hedge, he picks it up and continues talking to the ugly creature which is sporting a little red pointed hat and two pink circles for cheeks. "I'll teach the silly bint what it's like to be covered in the Shlayer," He tells the gnome, pointing a black nailed finger in its little porcelain face, "Gonna make Dru shoo jealous she'll take me back, an' leave that drippin' bastard."

He throws off his black leather duster and hangs it on a tree branch where it blows in the breeze for a moment, before falling to the ground. The vampire follows this by throwing his red shirt over what was left of the hedge, and eventually tries to remove his black tee shirt which gets caught on his elbow, he doesn’t seem to notice. "Shah layer! Come down here and give ole Spikey a good seein' to!" He yells up at the daughter of the house’s window. Hearing no reply, he barely makes it to the steps, thudding down heavily and attempting to pull off a big, scuffed, black boot. This is clearly all too much of an effort, and he falls back against the deck, with only one boot on, the other removed and clutched in his hand. "Come an' get it while ish hot, cutie!" He calls before passing out, his head cracking the wooden slats with a thump.

There should be a moral to this story. The Slayer, Buffy, has a turbulent relationship with the vampire, and he’s risking life and limb by being there at all.

If there is a lesson to be learned, it is perhaps never to arrive staggering drunk on your mortal enemy’s doorstep, three sheets to the wind and asking her for a shag, having ruined her mother’s garden and totalled your car.

Luckily for our vampire, the Slayer is not home, yet.

Here I bid you adieu, gentle readers, safe in the knowledge that your mind is, after all, the best tool for this job.

........

What the actual fuck? Why can't I catch a break? I've been back from my little trip to LA for less than a week and instead of coming home to a fussing mom who can't bear to let me out of her sight, I come home to this, the car of a damn menace of a vampire I thought I'd been long rid of, and would be if he'd heeded my previous warnings and left Sunnydale for good. What is it about the bleached idiot? I told him to leave town and take his crazy bitch of a girlfriend with him, yet here he is, causing a damn riot wherever he goes and running my mom’s shrubbery. I wonder if should expect anything less?

Mom must've lost her sense of hearing not to have noticed the state of the garden and a comatose Spike lying in the middle of the chaos. I look at my watch, it’s just past four AM, so mom would be asleep, but I just can’t believe the neighbours haven’t noticed, it must’ve been the quietest crash in the history of car accidents or they’ve all taken a shed load of Ambien.

I look inside the car, there’s no sign of Spike, but it would be just like him to leave the scene of an accident. Perhaps he was banking on the fact I might not remember what his car looks like? He must be kidding himself, who else does the paint job on the inside of the car, rather than the outside? Has a back seat filled with whiskey bottles and cigarette packets? My suspicions are confirmed as I see his duster lying next to the bushes, and his shirt. What the heck is he doing? Playing strip poker alone? I wouldn’t put it past him, his plans were always ill thought out and we always seemed to foil them, much to his humiliation.

I follow the few scattered clothing items and here he is, half naked and splayed out, a boot in one hand.

A normal person would probably be shocked at finding an unconscious and mostly naked vampire on their front porch an hour before sunrise. Especially this particular vampire. But then normal was not a label often associated with me, Buffy Summers, thanks to the whole Slayer gig. A quick scan didn’t hint at the cause of said unconsciousness, and nothing short of getting a closer look would help with that. The question was, should I?

Who’d have known he was so pretty under his clothes? I find myself glazing over a little as I peruse his chest, gazing at the peaks and valleys of tight and defined muscle. The downy hair of his lower belly just begged to be touched, it looked so soft, and I can’t help but wonder if it would feel silky to the touch, just as it looks. I bite my lip as my eyes linger on his hair, he looks like he’s been thoroughly shagged – a word he’d use himself – and that’s something I haven’t been for a long time. I try to brush off thoughts of Angel, but the familiar stab of hurt makes my heart stutter. I know there are reasons why we can’t touch like that anymore, but a girl still needs to feel wanted and I feel the least wanted by him since his return. All Angel ever does is talk, or mope about the situation while I spend my nights in the company of a battery powered device which barely takes the edge off. Still, it’s an important edge, as it stops me from jumping Angel and taking what I want.

“Spike?” I tap him on the thigh with my toe. “Spike wake up!” He shows no sign of waking. Why would it be me who must find a partially naked vampire on her front porch? I don't make a habit of getting too close to Spike, usually I avoid him like the plague, as his face is enough to turn me murderous, or give me feelings I’d rather not investigate too closely, especially when we fight. There was that one time I ended up straddling him and god it felt good to have him between my thighs that last time before he flipped me off and went right back to the fight. I was a total airhead, as he would and could’ve killed me then, I took my eye off the ball for only a moment, why didn’t it register with me that it was all it takes? Spike needed seconds to sink his fangs into me. Thinking back, he’d looked as surprised as I had, perhaps he felt the same way? Or perhaps it was just a male reaction to being between a woman’s thighs, no matter who the woman was? Its hard to tell with Spike, he just oozes sex appeal.

So, he's appeared out of nowhere, blotto, with no sign of rousing anytime soon. His face is so pretty when he sleeps, a contradiction, an angel on the outside, fuelled by the demon on the inside. I kick him a little harder, beginning to get irritable, I’m tired and I just want to go to bed. “For god’s sake, Spike, will you wake up!”

Angel, morose as he is, would love to see his grandchild meet the sunrise, a pile of ashes left in his wake, I'm sure he'd dance an Irish jig in happiness, but that's Angel, he never really had much time for Spike, and I don’t blame him, he’s been a thorn in my side for as long as I’ve known him too. My conscience won't allow me to leave him outside, mom would kill me for it, I just know she’d come up with some mom reason that I wasn’t civil to a guest, even if he’s caused countless damage to the front of the house. I guess I'm going to be taking said vampire into the house for the day. This would only happen in Sunnydale. In the movies a vamp would have a lackey to help him home to a stinky, old castle, or he’d turn into a bat and fly away. Sadly, this isn’t the movies and there’ll be no flying of any kind.

The logistics of moving a dead weight – I snort to myself at that - mean I have to touch him, and I don't relish it – or so I tell myself - In fact, I want as little bodily contact with Spike as possible. I can't be sure where he's been, but he could have any manner of diseases. I gather up his clothing and duster before I lift him, because I don’t want to hear the complaints about a lost duster if one of the neighbourhood kids decides it looks good on them tomorrow morning.

The feel of his skin against my hands causes a tingling to rush down my spine. I’m highly aware of his maleness, even while I’m carrying him into my house like a damsel in distress. He smells strongly of whiskey and stale cigarettes, but his own scent infuses my senses. He smells amazing, a hint of sandalwood from cologne, along with a pure tang of him, and I remember it from Halloween, where he was right over me when I came around from the spell. Its difficult to explain why I lean down and take a whiff of his neck, and even harder to explain why I feel the urge to lick it too, I mean, its not like he’d ever know, right?

I manage to get him inside and begin to walk towards the basement but stop. I can’t have mom going down there in the morning and finding him asleep when she does the laundry, what if she isn’t dressed? She wouldn’t be happy at all. There isn’t anywhere else in the house I can leave him where he won’t wake up as a pile of ash or be found by mom before I can explain. There’s nothing else for it, the only place I’ll be able to keep an eye on him is in my room. That’s OK, right? I mean, Angel slept on the floor beside my bed that one time, and that was fine, and anyway, with my enemy sleeping near me, I’ll be sleeping with one eye open.

Once I arrive in my room, avoiding the creaking floorboards on the stairs and the upper hall, I place him gently onto the bed while I decide what to use to make up a bed on the floor, and I notice he’s still clutching one boot in his hand, his tee, hanging from the crook of his arm. It’s almost sweet. It wasn’t like I planned for this, and I’ll disturb mom if I go to the cupboard on the landing and start rooting around for extra bedding. I bite my lip, should I just leave him on my bed? He could sleep above the covers and I could wear my clothes? That way no one could say that was inappropriate. I don’t think I’d tell anyone, but mom might come in before she leaves for work, not that she usually does, but since I ran away to LA, she’s been more watchful.

He mutters in his sleep, saying something which sounds like my name. That’s just weird. I leave him and go take a shower and brush my teeth. I return in my robe and begin looking for some sweats in my drawers. He’s still as I left him, but he’s muttering again.

“Buff, B-buffy, please, just, please…., don’t hide…let me see you...” His voice is low and raspy, and even in his sleep it sounds like he’s begging me to do something. When I realise what he’s dreaming about, my stomach jolts. Spike cannot be seriously dreaming about me? I move closer as he lips continue to move and he lets out a moan. “…be the best you ever had…you know it…” He says, so quietly I can barely hear him. His eyelashes are flickering, and I notice his hands have moved towards his crotch, Oh my god, he’s hard! Down there! Hard, while dreaming about me! Not only is he erect, uh, in his private place, but his hands are moving purposefully towards the considerable bulge in his jeans.

“Whoa, Buster!” I hiss, moving my hands to stop him going any further towards his nether regions.

Once I grab his hands, his eyes shoot open and he grabs me. In seconds I’m on my back, arms pinned above my head, with a half-naked vampire between my legs. I’m only wearing my robe, and I begin to panic when the tie seems to have worked its way open.

His eyes are fully open, and I can see they’re bloodshot as they regard me, his baby blues dilated and darting from side to side in confusion. His breath is coming in short gasps, and I can feel the fine hairs of his lower abs brushing against my skin through a gap in my gown. He looks down to where his body meets mine and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, all the while still panting.

“What the fuck is this, Slayer?”

……

I was having the most amazing dream, Buffy was running her hands over her tits, tweaking pert, rosy nipples as she did exactly as I asked. She was buck naked, and although I didn’t rightly know what she looked like naked, my imagination had filled in the gaps in its own inventive way.

Then I felt her hands on mine, like she was pushing me to touch her nether lips, begging me, and then I woke with a start with no idea where the fuck I was. That was until the scent of her infiltrated my senses, she was really here, and her hands were on mine. I felt so disorientated that I flipped her over, afraid she had a stake to my chest, only to find she was in her bath robe in her bed, in her room, in her bloody house! The question is, how the fuck am I here too? Admittedly this is a fantasy I’d held dear for a long time, but it was bewildering to find myself here, especially when I had no idea how. My head is banging, and I have a vague memory of being incredibly drunk earlier, I think I might be fifty percent soberer now, but still hanging out of my arse.

Feeling her against me, her skins softer and smoother than anything my brain could ever fabricate, and at the point where our bodies meet it’s like electric shocks are passing between us. She looks terrified, and her chests heaving as I hold her hands flush above her head. Then I notice the scent of her arousal.

I ask her what the fuck is happening, and she doesn’t speak, which just isn’t normal for Buffy, usually only a punch in the gob will shut her up, and that’s only for a few seconds, then she’ll taunt and snark at me until I get sick of her. I know I should move, but I risk being dusted just for being here. I try again for an answer. “What is this, Slayer?”

“I-I found you on our porch, uh, I brought you inside, y-you would’ve dusted if I’d left you there.” I hear her stutter, which again, is not like her, why is she being this way with me? I want the gobby girl with the mean right hook, but there’s something about her like this, she’s sweet and unsure of herself, it makes me feel right manly, it does. I expect the worse, perhaps it’s a rouse and she’ll stake me in a minute.

I’m trying to answer too many questions at once and my brain is in fear of overloading. Why the hell would she take me in out of the sun? Wouldn’t a Slayer be better off leaving me out there to burn? I know we had a truce, before she sent peaches to that hell dimension, but she warned me she’d dust me if I ever came back. Colour me befuddled.

“But why? Why would you bring me here? To your room?”

She shifts slightly and the touch of her hips against mine causes me to tense, it would be pleasurable in other circumstances, but now, my cock is painfully hard, and each movement taunts it.  “Shit, uh, don’t move like that, pet.”

For a moment she looks confused but when she cottons on she raises an eyebrow saucily and does it again. What a little minx! 

I shake my head, and she smiles. “What? I thought we were on a truce?”

“Err, yeah we were, pet, doesn’t mean we’d agreed to invade personal space and bump uglies.” I say, regretting it as I see her face change immediately, her lower lip wobbles slightly, like she might cry. I expect her throw me off and head for her weapons chest, but she doesn’t.

“I’m not good enough for anyone, am I?” She looks away, like she can’t stand to look me in the eye, and my heart breaks for the poor cow. I get it now. Angel will go all grr arggh if he makes love to her, and I’d wager he hadn’t touched her once since he came back. Poor bitch is probably desperate by now. How could the git unlock the wonders of sex for her and then expect her to lock those feeling back up? God, he could’ve at least fingered her or fucked her with his tongue, but the selfish prick has definitely laid the guilt on her and left her wanting, I know him too well.  

I chance letting go of one arm and reach to wipe away a wayward tear from her cheek. “He’s not the only one who wants you.” I say, fuck it, I’ll never get a chance like this again, there’s no way any other time she’ll let me talk to her so directly, it’s now or never. “Dru left me because of you, said I was covered with you.” I watch her reaction, she’s still staring over at the window, but the tears stop, and she adopts a bewildered look. “She’s right in her usual crazy way. It’s been you for a long time, I just couldn’t admit it to myself.” She slowly turned her head, and I felt like her eyes are boring into me, like she was searching for something, the truth maybe. I get it, why would she believe me?

“Angel, he h-hasn’t, he barely hugs me. Its over, I know it, I’m just too much of a coward to admit it. I can’t understand why I’m telling you this, truce or no truce, you’ll just use it as ammunition in the future.” Her eyes beg me not to but I suppose that’s likely, I am evil after all, regardless, I’m offering my heart to her here, doesn’t she get it? “That wanker wouldn’t know what to do with you now, you're a strong, passionate woman, who could shag him into next week given half a chance, but who’ll never have that with him again. He’s being naïve to even think he can be with you, you need more, love, you need someone who can take care of your needs.”

She gave a despondent chuckle, “And you’re offering?”

Yes, I suppose I am, it wouldn’t be the first time I've stepped into my grandsire’s shoes, and if that was the only way to have her, I’d be Angel’s replacement. If I could get under her skin, I might become more than that. “And if I was?”

She pursed her lips, “He’s got me so riled up, I’m like a rubber band about to snap. I’m angry all the time, and moody, god, so moody…”

“So, err, you want me to do somethin’ about that? We could talk about the finer points of a more regular arrangement after, you know, if you find it satisfactory.” I knew, for now this was the only way I could have her, and I’d be doing her a service. If the terms she laid down later weren’t to my satisfaction, once I'd given her the best shag of her life I’d have some leverage to negotiate. She might throw me out on my ear too, but this was a wait and see kind of deal. Any other time I’d be grinding a bird into the bed, telling her exactly what I wanted to do to her, but this wasn’t any other time, was it?

“Spike?”

“Yes, princess?” It’s a risk, calling her that, I know, but if I ever stand a chance of getting closer with her, I’ll have to at least try to dispense with calling her Slayer, at least while we're in her personal space.

“Why do you want me? We’ve never been anything other than enemies, you’ve tried to kill me more than once, and we both know you could have if you really wanted to, and you’ve had more than one chance this evening. It all seems so wrong.”

I sigh, rising on my arms and moving back slightly, but not far enough to let her to move from beneath me. “I dunno, something stopped me a while back. Dru was probably right, I felt more for you than I should’ve, I just kept up the bravado, you know, for the sake of it.” I lost myself in my thoughts for a moment, going over every time we fought and trying to remember when things had changed for me.

“Spike?” She was using that sweet voice again, god knows where she found it, perhaps she used it with him, perhaps he liked her meek?

“Sweetheart?”

“W-will it hurt? You know, the second time, does it, uh, hurt like the first time?”

I fucking knew that prick didn’t make it good for her, fuck knows how he got his happy on when he didn’t do right by her. “Not if it’s done right. In fact, the first time should only feel like a sharp pinch if you’ve been prepared for it in the right way.”

“Oh.” She’s not meeting my eye again, its like a tell, and I’m learning she struggles with talking about these things, its not something she’s used to, I’d wager.

“None of that matters, really, so you had a bad first time? Perhaps you should take me up on my offer, an’ let me show you how good it can be."

She bites her lip, fuck, she must know how fucking gorgeous that is, and I can see a battle being waged behind those sparkling greens. Say yes, Buffy, please say you’ll let me have you. I’m so desperate for you I think I might spontaneously combust.

“Um, OK.”


	2. Chapter 2

Yes? Bloody hell, she said yes! Now I don't know what to do. Well, of course I know what to do, had tons of experience in that regard, she's just thrown me through a loop. Never in a million years would I ever imagine she would agree. The only problem is now I have to put my money where my mouth is. I’ve never shied away from showing Buffy Summers how I'd like to give her it good an' proper, god, that time at the high school I was hard as a rock for her. I remember promising Dru I’d chop the slayer into messes, that we’d make the town burn, then when it came to it, I was strutting around like a peacock, chasing Buffy down and calling to her like she was a little kitten. Fuck, even for Dru I couldn’t end the Slayer, she was just to sodding delectable and I never could quite work out why I’d rather keep her for myself than kill her. Not that the Slayer could be a kept woman, no way, Buffy will rule me with a rod of iron and I’ll adore her for it. I think I’m getting ahead of myself here, and why I’m even thinking rather than just taking her, I have no idea. All I know is now I have her here below me I suddenly feel nervous, me, the bloody big bad, feels like it’s his first time again.

I shake it off, I’ve wanted her for so long I could almost taste it, but now she needs me to be something more, she needs me to show her what its really like to be thoroughly loved. She might say fucked at this point, as if all were doing here is shagging like dogs in heat, but her language isn’t that crass. But it isn’t that, is it? It’s not going to be a one-time thing, I feel it in my bones, I want her to love me. Shit. I’m buggered.

“Are you sure about this, pet? Once I get goin’ it’s gonna be hard to turn back?” What the fuck am I? Some simpering git who cares about how she feels? Centuries of taking what I want and this one time I really want something, or someone, I’m asking permission. Somebody dust me now!

Don’t change your mind, please don’t change your mind, please don’t…

She lifts a hand and caresses my face, nibbling her lip as she tries to work me out. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

I let out a throaty laugh, god this girl is delightful, and now she’s opened up her true self to me, I realise there’s a real sense of humour behind her snark.

I grasp her thigh and pull it up around my waist, leaning down and kissing the skin of her chest I can see. Her robe’s barely open, but one little nudge and she’ll be bared for me to see her in all her glory. She lets out a little mewl as my lips linger over the pulse point in her neck, and that’s it, I’m lost, and I kiss her fervently.

“Slayer.” I groan.

“Buffy.” She gasps, “Call me by my name.”

“Fuck, Buffy.” I grind against her core, the intense scent of her pheromones invading my senses like a crusading army.

Her hands are on my back, fingers gripping my shoulders as I plunder her mouth with promises of what I could do with my cock.

I won’t question whatever powers brought us to this, I’m drowning in her and never want to return from her depths.

…………………

For a moment he seemed undecided as to whether he wanted to go ahead with this at all. You know, it’s not like I expected this either, I found him on my porch, and yeah it was a little stupid to bring him to my room, but I had little choice in the matter if he wasn’t to dust right there. I all but invited him to make love to me, and he’s battling with himself over whether it’s the right thing to do and that itself, is a paradox. It’s not like I forgot Angel, it’s just for once in my life I want something and I’m going to take it, I know this means the end for Angel and me, but I have to stop lying to myself and move on, for his sake as well as my own.

Spike sprang to life, and he began to move, and he was kissing me first slowly and carefully, but then with a burst of lust I’ve never experienced. Just the feel of him between my thighs is sends my body into overdrive and I want him more than ever. I won’t stop to think of all the reasons why this shouldn’t happen, that he’s evil, that he has no soul, nor wonder whether he really is capable of loving me. For now, that’s all packed into a small box marked denial I have stored in the back of my mind. I just relish his ministrations and move with him.

It’s so easy to let the world fall away with him, like were the only two in existence. Allowing the heat that’s been building between us for the past year just flood my being.

He’s right, Angel didn’t bring these feelings out in me. There’s something feline and fluid about the way Spike moves that oozes pure sex, and I feel like I’m rapidly disappearing down the rabbit hole, even though he’s barely touched me.

“Oh. Oh, god!” I gasp as he tears open my gown, his tongue sliding from my neck through the valley of my breasts, and in less than a second, he’s suckling on my nipple, lathing it with his tongue and rolling the other between his thumb and middle finger. I watch him, and swallow, barely able to catch my breath. He murmurs in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves to my core and producing a delicious rush of gooseflesh over my heated skin.

I feel the loss keenly when he moves back and divests me of my robe, but he’s soon back, using that tongue of the devil over my rib cage, and my nipples ache in their hardness. He pauses and looks to me, his eyes black and dangerous, and I realise this is what I want, what I need. I don’t want Angel and slow and careful lovemaking, I need Spike and his bad boy persona, it’s exhilarating to have him between my thighs and be dicing with death. Spike could turn on me at any minute, but I know he won’t, still, it doesn’t make it any the less exciting.

My thoughts are jumbled as he trails towards the apex of my thighs with the tip of his tongue, and I notice myself whining as he skirts around my mons, before spreading my legs, his hands holding me firmly behind the knees. Vampires love the femoral artery, and I know with him here I’m in the most vulnerable position. I watch him almost salivating as he first looks to my pussy and then back to me.

“Lick your fingers and play with your nipples.” He commands me, his voice gravelled and almost hoarse. I do as he asks, as he watches me from under his lashes.

I feel another rush of moisture between my thighs as I encircle my taut peaks with my saliva, the cool room hardening them further.

“Fucking beautiful.” His eyes follow my every move, as if he’s forgotten what he was about to do.

“Spike, please!” I’m begging, and I don’t care who knows it. Buffy Summers is wet, horny and begging a notorious vamp to use his mouth on her, and oh my fucking god that though makes me hotter than ever, especially as this is only something I’ve ever fantasised about before now, and Spike is about to boldly go where no man has ever gone before. I think I’m losing the plot.

“I know what I’m gonna do to you, but I want you to tell me what you want, love, there’s no shame in askin’.” He’s unbuckling his jeans as I watch, and my brain won’t make my mouth work, I want to tell him what I want, to demand he licks my pussy, but I’m afraid he’ll laugh, and I’ll have to stake him. That would be unfortunate indeed.

………

She’s stalling, she doesn’t want to ask me for what she wants. I’d be happy to carry on and just go down on her, my mouths salivating at the thought of tasting her delectable juices. But this isn’t about that, if she doesn’t start demanding what she wants, from me or any other (but hopefully no other) then she’ll never do it and she’ll be the worse for it. She’ll learn that there’s something right hot about a woman who knows what she wants.

I move back up her body, back to her neck. “Perhaps we’ll start again?” I whisper, nipping at the lobe of her ear and feeling her shudder, Mmm, must remember that for next time. “And we’ll keep startin’ again until you tell me what you want.”

One of two things could happen here, either she’s going to kick my head in, or she’ll acquiesce to my request. Personally, I hope it’s the latter. “Tell, me baby, what do you want?”

“I-I, I want you to…” She stops, and I trail my fingers up one silky thigh, my lips on the pulse point in her neck, her soft breast again my chest, fuck she feels so good.

“Just say it, love,” I croon, “tell me that you want me to gorge myself on your sumptuous little pussy, tell me you want me to make you scream the bloody house down.”

“I-I,” She gulped, “Spike, I want you t-to eat me and make me cum.” Well, that was a revelation, and it took me only a moment to move and take her in my mouth, my hands holding her hips down as I dive right in, sucking on her clit and lapping her like she was ambrosia and my life depended on it.

She let out the most adorable squeak and covered her mouth with both hands as she arched her hips. Yeah, I forgot about her mum, perhaps less of the screaming this time, next time a place she can let loose.

“Oh, god, sweet holy…Spike!” She’s whispering urgently. I move to slide first one, then two fingers inside her, seeking out the spongy spot which made most women shriek to the high heavens when done right. It takes only a few thrusts and she's coming apart in my hand. I circle her nubbin with my thumb as her back arches on the bed, her hands now fisted in the coverlet as she pants. I can’t believe she’s managed to cum so quietly, but then it wouldn’t do for her mother to come running in, thinking her daughter was being murdered and finding us like this. It appeals to me in a wicked way, but then I won't get to experience the rest Buffy has to offer and would be shooting myself in the foot.

I’m painfully hard. Watching her come down from such a high, her golden hair splayed over the pillows, sweat sheening her brow and flushed chest, I just want to fuck her into the ground.

“That was…” She looked like she couldn’t put it into words.

“That’s just the beginning,” I tell her, moving to kiss her once more, my mouth slathered in her juices, “I’m gonna make you cum until you can’t take anymore.” I brush strands of hair from her sticky cheeks, taking a moment to relish in the feel of the locks I’ve wanted to run my fingers through since I saw her that first time.

Her eyes are like a sparkling green star being eclipsed by a dark moon, barely no iris left, and I guess mine must look much the same. I jolt as she reaches for my prick unexpectedly and my demon surges forth, I can’t hold it back.

She looks a little startled but reaches a hand out to touch the ridges of my brow.

I find myself feeling bashful, I never thought she’d allow me this close while the demon was in control, and I wonder if she’s lost her bloody marbles.

……

I suppose he can’t help when his vamp face comes to the fore, I think I surprised him when I touched him. I lick my lips when I remember how his hardness feels, it seems far bigger than Angel’s, but I won’t be sure until he lets me take it out of his pants.

I’ve never been this close to a vamp before, so I touch the sharpened creases of his face, and as I stroke his face, he leans into my hand, nuzzling it like a cat. His eyes flash open and he looks embarrassed, perhaps because he’s been caught doing that, plus I could’ve sworn I heard him purr, so weird, but kind of nice too.

His eyes are on me as I let my fingers drift to his fangs, and I move forward to touch the very tip of one with my tongue. I can’t explain why he’s so hot like this, most vamps are ugly, but then perhaps they were ugly as humans. Spike is so amazingly hot, with the killer cheekbones and the pouting, pink lips. It stands to reason his demon would look sweet. He pulls his head back to peer at me in wonder as I move to lick his lower lip, my hand moving back to the bulge in his pants. I disregard the logistics of kissing someone with fangs and begin to kiss him, while undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. His length feels heavy on my hand as he grasps me by the shoulders and pushes me back onto the bed, while he kneels between my thighs, watching me as I begin to pump him slowly.

He’s almost fully naked, his powerful, muscular body only visible by bright moonlight, and he’s rock hard in my hand, his back slightly arched and his head rolls back as he groans at my touch. Never have I ever felt so powerful and womanly, to have such a gorgeous creature moaning in pleasure just at my touch. I feel myself throb, and this time I want no excuses, I want him inside me, fucking me, I want his tongue in my mouth again, and I want to break him, to have him smash into pieces as he cums inside me.

“Spike, I want you, I need you inside me.” He goes to shake off his vamp face, but I still him with one hand to the chest. “No, be you, just be what you need to be.” If I’m going to have him, I don’t want lies or false promises, I just want him to be himself. I can deal with that.

He keeps his demon visage and climbs over me, laying his body between my thighs as I tremble in anticipation. I’ve never felt this way at any man’s touch, like a hand grenade waiting for the pin to be pulled. He rolls his hips, and his cock brushes my clit, making me keen with pleasure, and clutch at his back. He moves his head and brushes his forehead against mine, planting soft kisses on my face and nuzzling his face into my hair.

Then he kisses me forcefully, and a fang nicks my lip. I should be panicking but I’ve told him to be himself, I just have to hope being himself doesn’t leave him descending into blood lust. He purrs again, and laps at the cut on my lip. I relax when there’s no sign of him wanting to drink me dry.

I feel his fingers swipe over my folds before the tip of his cock slowly enters me, filling me to the brim and stretching me until I feel like I can’t take anymore.

………

Fuck, she’s so hot and tight, and her blood tastes better than I remember a slayers blood ever tasting. I berate my demon and send him scuttling away when he suggests taking more of her blood. I lap at the wound, my saliva causing it to heal over, and I shake off the demon as I begin to move, setting a moderately fast pace, swivelling my hips to brush her clit on the downstroke.

“Oh, yes! Oh, this shouldn’t feel so good.” She’s moaning, and I’m right there with her, being cock deep in your enemy shouldn’t feel this good, but it does, and I never want to leave ever again.

Then I get the scent of something, another vamp. Its Angel, and he’s in the sodding tree outside the window watching us, I bloody know it. He’s taking a risk as its almost full daylight. Mind you, neither Buffy nor I thought to close the drapes, so I could’ve been dust too after all her careful care not to have me so.

I slow to a stop and she whimpers at the loss of sensation. “Sorry, pet, I’d love to carry on, but it looks like we’ve got an audience.” I sigh and roll off her, lying on the bed in my full glory with one arm behind my head.

“What?” She sits up, grasping the covers and peering out of the window. “Oh, god! Its Angel - hide!”

“Think that boats sailed, sweetheart.” I watch as she stares at him and he looks sadly back at her, almost as if he’s resigned to his fate. He gives me a murderous look and jumps down from the tree. “Err, so, what now?” I scratch the back of my head as she closes the drapes.

“He knows now,” She sits with a plonk on the end of the bed, holding the sheets over her chest, “Perhaps it’s for the best he does.”

I sit up and put an arm around her, pulling her back into bed and wrapping her in a tight embrace. “Even if I never get to be with you again, I’ve gotta tell you this was one of the best nights of my life, love, and I’ve had some sweet ones. I’ll go, an’  leave you to your thoughts.” I kiss her gently on the top of the head and ease my way out of bed and pick up my jeans. Her eyes are filled with tears and she’s staring into space.

“No,” she says after a moment, “No, I don’t want you to go. We can deal with all that later. You made me an offer, you said you’d show me how good it could be and something tells me it was about to get so much better.”

I run my hand through my hair, “I’m no welsher, but are you sure this is the right time, pet?”

“Yes, I want…I need you to finish what you started.” She had that determined look on her face, the one I couldn’t say no to.

I drop my tee shirt to the floor and shuck off my jeans. Well, isn’t this a turn up for the books?


	3. Chapter 3

She looks astounded that she even said anything at all, as Buffy isn’t known for saying anything to me apart from snide comments and to remind me of how much she hates me.

I really thought once the great wanker reared his ugly head, that she’d run, her virtue all aflutter, claiming I’d somehow forced myself upon her, and certainly didn’t’ think that she’d lay back on her bed and nibble her lip as she waited for me to return to her arms. Miracles and wonders will never cease.

She looks vulnerable and, although I want her, I feel like I’ve pushed this too far already, that things are about to backfire on me spectacularly and that she really will wake up tomorrow morning and kick me in the head. So far, all I see is her hand reaching for me in a way I’d never expected such a woman to offer me, she isn’t one to offer herself that freely, and I can’t help but be flabbergasted by the whole bloody encounter. My head throbs with my hangover from thinking too much.

This may have begun as a quick roll in the hay, a way for her to scratch an itch that Peaches couldn’t soothe, but now she’s sent him away and whatever this is seems to have moved to a whole new level. I run my hand through my hair, trying to banish the thoughts of being gentlemanly away, wondering whether I should just ask the bird out on a date or something. If this is to be my only chance with her, shagging her senseless may not be the best way to go?

But, God, just the feel of her skin and the tang of her scent is driving me wild, I want to devour her, to ruin her for any other, to taste her salty, sweat covered skin, to...

"Spike, are you gonna stand there all-day staring? Cause you know, mom’s gonna be up soon."

I close the drapes; the dawn is threatening, and I don’t fancy becoming a pile of dust before I get to truly enjoy this experience. The cheeky little cow’s lying back on the bed, her hair a mess, looking all sultry like, so I kneel at the end, my eyes on her as I crawl to her feet. Christ, I'd worship at the bint’s feet if she let me. She lets out the most adorable giggle as I grasp her foot, intending to kiss all the way up to her thighs, but she throws herself back onto the bed, her laughter lighting up the room as she kicks at me and covers her mouth to stifle any noise. She's so ticklish she can't bear her feet to be touched at all. Another revelation. She's like a gift waiting to be unwrapped, layer after layer just waiting to be peeled away, and that wanker never appreciated her, he just mooned around her while trying to avoid touching her, not orbiting her like she was his everything. This girl could be someone's everything, in fact she should be someone's everything, she could be mine, and she's ripe for the taking. Anyway, too much talking to yourself, mate and not enough doing. The bird will throw you out on your ear and you'll damn well deserve it, if you don't put your money where your mouth is. Anyway, I might not be here tomorrow, as Peaches is likely to be forming a plan to off me as we speak.

So, I stalk down the bed, on my hands and knees, hard as nails, and as she watches me, the giggles die on her lips as she waits expectantly for me to reach her. Never have I ever felt so elated to be given such an opportunity to share my knowledge with someone, to show someone how I can make their body sing. It's not about women, or the women I've slept with, which is pretty minimal for a vamp of my age, I've always been mainly faithful to Dru, I've had my moments, encouraged by her, but never alone, and I now I want someone for myself, I'm terrified of fucking it up. No, it’s about teaching this girl to love her body and what she’s missing.

"Buffy, I..." 

She reaches out and touches my lips, "Hush, don't overthink it."

How the fuck does she even know I was getting lost in my head? Is she there with me?

Her hand is gentle on my cheek and I glance up at her, for the first time seeing a softness I never thought I'd ever see from her. The slayer is such a paradox, an outer hide tough and thick, a tiny body projecting strength and power, but break her open and within you find hidden depths of yielding and tender pillow-like softness. God, I want her.

She moans as my lips are on hers again. I kiss her more tenderly this time, with as much passion as before, but less like a man starved, and she pulls me close, her arms wrapping around my neck as she plays with the curls I know I have on the nape of my neck, because my hair hasn't been cut in months. She gasps as I touch her and fuck she's driving me crazy, so I stop thinking and start feeling.

.......

I don't want to think, I just need him to take me. I can't think because I know I'll change my mind, not because I don't want him, but because Angel will wheedle his way back into my head and I'll lose myself to the guilt. Angel will have to understand that I can’t wait for him forever like he expects me too, I’m young and I have my whole life ahead of me, something he fails to realise when he leaves me wanting him so much I could scream. It’s kind of like opening a box of your most favourite chocolates and having someone wave them in your face but not allowing you any. You salivate and you long to taste them, but you can’t, and you never will. That would drive a person crazy eventually, and I must forget the chocolates, or more to the point, Angel, and instead sample from a box offered by somebody else. Spike was in the right place at the right time, but I don't want Spike to think I'm using him, this isn't what this is to me. Spike’s funny and snarky, a total idiot, my mortal enemy and probably not boyfriend material at all, but he’s totally hot, has a tongue that promises more than he’s already given me and there's something about him that makes me wonder what it’d be like to have him around. His touch is like liquid fire rippling across my skin in waves and I forget again, forget my name and where I am, there's only him. He’s here and whether this ends badly is his call. I know he can dedicate himself to someone and I also know he’s probably still in love with Dru, but for now I’m happy to forget all that as he pulls me into a lover’s embrace.

He moves to hold my hips, larger hands smoothing their way up my rib cage as he draws me to him. My nipples brush his chest and desire careens through me, throbbing in all the places which cooled at the sight of my boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, heating me to the point of agonising but wonderful longing.

His lips brush my ear, and he murmurs, his voice rough as nips at the lobe, "Tell me you want me." He rumbles.

My whole body turns liquid at the sound of it, threatening to slide away off the bed like quicksilver. "Yes, I want you."  I murmur in reply, and he lifts me up onto his lap, his legs folded underneath him, his hands palming my butt, the hairs on his thighs deliciously coarse under my own as he tugs my legs around his waist. I pull myself up on his shoulders, his eyes glinting in the early morning light. 

I freeze, panicking as I hear my mom moving around in her room, it means it must be six a.m. and she's getting ready for work. I place my finger over his lips and he grins that cheeky and wicked smile of his. This is all so surreal I start to giggle, my eyes tightly closed as I hope to god my mother doesn't come in and find me buck naked with the guy that she once hit with an axe, like some momzilla.

His fingers trail down my spine and we stare into each other's eyes in the muffled light, his are filled with mirth and wonder as he reaches up and brushes my hair from my face, planting tiny kisses along my jawline while I just try not to spontaneously combust.

I let out a deep breath of relief when Mom doesn't disturb us, she just gets ready and heads off to work, leaving me alone and I'm so grateful I shimmy on his lap with excitement and he growls as he hears the front door close and then suddenly slam open again.

Crap! Spike’s car!

“Buffy? Buffy whose car is this! My lawns ruined!” She yells up the stairs.

“Yikes, you’d better get in the closet! Moms on her way and if she finds you here you’ll have more to worry about than an axe in the head!” I point to his balls and he lets out a strangled cry, cupping them and looking terrified. 

Chuckling to myself, I throw on my robe once I’ve pushed the protesting Spike into the overloaded mass of clothes in my closet, supressing a smirk as he stares at me with a pleading look.

Mom’s halfway up the stairs when I rush from my room. “I don’t know, mom, it was there when I got home early this morning, I didn’t want to wake you.” I lie, I’m going to hell for lying to my mother, but then its nothing new so hell probably already has a place earmarked for me.

“I don’t know who’d do such a thing, crashing onto someone’s lawn and just leaving their car right there. I’m calling the cops.” She looks at her watch, “Lord, I’m going to be late for work, would you be a dear and call them? I just don’t have time, we have a shipment coming in at the gallery this morning, and if I’m not there they won’t wait.”

“Of course, mom, leave it to me, when you get home it’ll be like the car was never there.” I smile sweetly.

“You’re a good girl.” She cups my face and kisses my forehead before rushing off down the stairs.

I wait until I hear her car start outside before rushing back to the closet.

“Has your mum gone?” He pokes his head out which is covered by white the lace from one of my skirts, he looks utterly ridiculous and adorable all in one.

“Yeah, but you need to get your car started and off the lawn before she gets home.”

“In case it escaped your notice, Slayer, vampire here, and a highly flammable one at that, I’m stuck here till dusk.”

“I’ll call a tow truck then.” I stand with my hands on my hips, my badly tied robe dropping open.

Spike shoots me a heated look as he peruses my body, before he raises an eyebrow and bites his lip, allowing it to spring forward. “’S alright, I’ll get a mate to come for it. But first, I made a promise to a lady.” He says huskily as he picks me up under the thighs, so I have no choice but to wrap my legs around him as he walks us to the bed. He settles on his knees once more, and I think he must like this position, I kind of like it too. I can feel him rock hard against me once more and my pussy throbs.

"You're all mine now, slayer." He croaks before he pushes my chest lightly with his flat palm and I drop my head back, my hair cascading behind me, my hands clutching the thick muscle of his upper arms to keep me steady. He lifts my hips and all at once I'm lost to the sensation of him filling me, and I arch my back as I feel his touch over my collarbone, one hand palming my breast, the other resting over my heart.

I begin to move, to ride him urgently, my hips undulating as he encourages me with murmured declarations and curses which sound so sexy I don’t care that he makes them. Within two minutes of being inside me he's promised me the world, and after another minute I zone out, the sound of my heart’s blood pounding in my ears. I'm swept away as he fingers my clit, my orgasm crashing over me so quickly it takes my breath away. Spike takes the reigns again, ploughing into me until all I feel are the tiny shock-like remnants of the whirl of feeling and sparking synapses I felt only a moment ago.

Once I recover Spike moves our position so quickly I barely notice it until I'm on my side, and he holds my leg held behind the knee, pounding into me. The differing sensation threatens to almost send me over the edge again as he pistons his cock deep inside. He's breathless and he's growling and pummelling into me. I love it, god help me I love this punishing pace, the noises of pleasure he makes and the feelings he draws from my body only serve to heighten the pleasure. I feel like I'm alight, like Spike sparked a fire which has roared to life and threatens to rush out of control and consume the whole world. The hair on the back of my neck prickles and I know he's watching me, encouraging me to let go once more.

"Come for me, Buffy." He whispers in my ear and I instantly begin to crest again, his arm around my waist under my breasts as he pulls me tight, my back to his chest, my slick, feverish skin cooled against his, the only one able to dampen down the fire. Never in my life have I ever felt this way, like I'm on the cusp of something amazing and big, and wonderful. And then it happens, I begin to fly and someone's screaming, and I white out for a moment, intense ecstasy surging through me and dragging me under. I can’t breathe, and my vision is blurred and if this is what it’s like I don’t think I’ll ever leave this bed again. I never believed people when they said sex was the best thing ever, and now I know why, because I’ve experienced it fully and it is mind-blowing.

I come back to reality and Spike holds my face in one hand, his eyes dark and his lashes fluttering as he leans in to kiss me. I realise he's watched the whole thing and his arousal at the sight has spurred him on to a feverish pace. I don't care, Spike watched me cum like a freight train and it was me I heard screaming his name, and I don't care. There, I said it, I was fucked by a notorious vampire and he made me cum so hard I nearly blacked out and I want to do it again and again for the rest of my life.

....

She was glorious, and I don't think I've ever seen something so hot as her losing herself to pleasure. I'm so hard and desperate I could just cum and finish, but I think I can wring one more orgasm out of her and I'm determined to do just that.  I'm well practiced in self-control, and I although I want this to last forever, I know it won't, even I'm not that good. I change positions, to missionary, not the most exciting for most folks, but I want to see her, I want to her to see who’s making love to her, fucking her, shagging, whatever she chooses to call this thing we have.

I take my time, my face in her hair as I breathe in lungsful of her scent, lapping at the salty skin on her neck as my fangs threaten to distend once more from the close vicinity to her carotid artery. Her legs are wrapped around my waist and her fingers dance over my back when she notices the change of pace. Her breathing doesn’t remain steady for long and her chest hitches as I brush her clit with my thumb, her breathing erratic as she no doubt feels the onset of another climax. I’m barely holding on as she arches below me and this time I grind to a halt, allowing myself to feel her pussy throb over my cock, and allowing her to experience the pleasure in a different and new way. Holy fuck, but she is glorious, all flushed and dripping, her hair soaked with sweat, eyelashes fluttering as she almost draws blood, she’s bitten her lip so hard, and she’s never looked more beautiful to me, not even when she was fighting, which I admit is a turn on, not even then, because here, for this moment she’s mine and I’m hers and neither of us think of any other.

“Spike, d-don’t you want to, um…?” She asks, her fingers wandering over my chest as if she’s trying to memorise it.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry pet.” Her words bring me back to reality and I allow myself this one, the feeling of urgency coming swiftly as I release the mental block which kept me going so long, electricity sweeps from every part of my body, heading right for my balls, she holds on to me as my hips smack against hers speedily, and then I’m gone, white light followed by a kaleidoscope of colours paint the inside of my eyelids, my body taut until the euphoria ends and I collapse on her, trying to hold some weight on my arms rather than squish the poor girl into the bed, even if she is strong enough to take it.

……

“That was…holy shit, I don’t even know if I have a word to describe it.” I tell him breathlessly, because I really don’t. It was magical, and it must just be us, surely no one would ever get anything done if everyone was having sex like that every day?

“It was bloody amazin’ love, you were breathtakin’’” He rolls us over and I snuggle under his arm. Who’ve thought mortal enemies could still snuggle after sex? But is that what we are now? Are we still enemies? Will he leave here later and still attempt to kill me the next time he sees me? That’s if Angel doesn’t kill him first for what we did. I feel strangely protective of Spike now, could it be that he came up with this ploy to get on my good side? No, probably not, anyway, his plans very rarely work out and I’m not sure he’d dream this one up in a million years, besides I was the one who came on to him first, comatose or not, so I can hardly blame him, can I?

“You weren’t so bad yourself.” I grin at him, turning onto my side to look at him, his arm wraps around me and pulls me close again.

“Cheeky little minx, that was nothing short of spectacular.” He seems a bit put out, but I know he’s joking.

“It was a seven, an eight at most.” I giggle, and he’s on me, grabbing my hands and tickling me. I almost roll off the bed as I try to kick him off, screaming and laughing until I can’t breathe.

“That was a ten and you know it!” He demands, now laughing himself. He looks so lovely when he laughs naturally, but he is so evil with the tickling. “You say Uncle or things are about to get a whole lot worse for you, slayer!” He chuckles, driving me crazy with his tickling skills.

Before I think I may die from lack of oxygen I concede, “Uncle!” I yell, “Uncle, uncle!” and he stops, pulling me into his arms and onto his lap, giving me a soft look as I try to catch my breath.

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” He closes his eyes and sighs, as if it took a lot to say that. I suppose it did, but I’m glad he said it, it takes away the awkwardness of me having to ask him myself, and we all know I’m terrible with words, we’d probably end up fighting if it was left to me.

“It doesn’t have to be.” I tell him, kissing his face gently and caressing his cheek with the back of my fingers.

I’m not sure what this is, or where it might lead, but I am sure I want more of him, I’ve realised in a few hours that he’s good fun and an amazing lover, whats not to want? I know I’ll have to overlook the whole vampire without a soul thing, but I deserve some happiness after everything that’s happened. The gang will hate it, but it’s not their choice and Giles will be livid, but he’ll have to deal because, unless they want me to run off to the big city again to be with Spike, they’ll have to stick it in their pie plate and like it.

Plus, Spike will probably need to be protected from Angel now, and Angel won’t dare take on the two of us. I kind of hope he just leaves, and I don’t have to face him, but that’s not likely.

Spike has that look of wonder on his face again and hugs me close. I feel strangely free, like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I know I’ve leapt into this without much thought, but mom says you should follow your heart and I have a good feeling about this. It might be endolphins or whatever they’re called, but I know my own mind and I won’t be manipulated any longer.

I am the Slayer, the chosen one, hear me roar!


End file.
